In What Could Have Been
by Mrs.LongbottomMalfoy
Summary: His love is for his country. Her love is for another man. And this is what could have been.


**A/N Wow. Its been forever since I've posted anything on here. Anyways, I posted this on Tumblr. and it got amazing feedback so I thought I should try it out here. If you are interested in my tumblr, it is arron-enjolras**

**Disclaimer: Nope. I'm not Victor Hugo back from the dead. **

* * *

"You think I actually give a damn about your love live?" Enjolras looked at Marius bewildered.

"Well yes!"

Enjolras was about to say something when a small voice broke the stunned silence.

"Monsieur Marius."

The voice was so small, so soft, and yet so strong.

Enjolras turned and saw a girl he had only seen once or twice before with Marius.

"I bid you farewell, Enjolras." Marius says and he and the young girl walk down the stairs together.

In that moment, in that one small glance at her, he noticed everything. The scar on her chin, the dimples that come out when she smiled, her high cheekbones and those sunken cheeks.

Enjolras found himself in awe of a woman.

* * *

"Quite the idiot you are." Enjolras replies to Marius who was on another load about Cosette.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and looked away from the love sick man only to see her again.

And he sees her smile, but she does not smile for him. She smiles for Marius. He felt an odd pain in his chest as the two walk away again.

And once more, no words are spoken between the two.

* * *

The revolution was near, Enjolras could feel it.

He could fear it.

* * *

They bump into each other suddenly.

"Sorry." She quickly said, letter in hand.

"Mademoiselle, I'm afraid to inform you that Marius is not in the cafe." He says, looking down into her brown eyes.

He counts the colors in them, brown, gold and a ring of green.

She shook her head. "Then where is he?"

Enjolras shrugs. "No idea."

He turns to leave then turns back around. He extends his left hand. "Enjolras."

The girl looks at his hand and slowly takes it. "Eponine."

He brings her hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

He swears he saw her cheeks change color.

Eponine quickly recoils her hand and starts to walk away.

* * *

Lamarque is dead. And everything happens all too fast.

The barricade is built.

The national guard appears.

And Gavroche dies all too soon.

* * *

The guns were firing. It was too late. Turning back was not an option.

As his men fell in their own blood, Enjolras felt ashamed. Their lives were ending too soon. And for a damn revolution he had feared would fail.

Suddenly, he felt himself being drug away.

"Let go!" He yelled.

"Not a chance." The person spoke. Dressed as a man, the voice was too high for a man.

"Those are my men."

"And I'm saving your ass!"

Enjolras tried to go back.

"Enjolras." The person turns around.

He notices everything. The dimples and the sunken cheeks, her high cheek bones. "Eponine."

She pulls him into an alley.

He grabs her wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Its failing!" She states. "We need you alive to help make another revolution."

"But those are my men!"

"And this is our country."

Enjolras sighs in agreement with the malnourished girl. She takes his hand again and starts to run.

They both turned around as they heard an agonizing sound.

"Marius." Eponine said in a small voice.

* * *

They sit against the ally for quite some time, no words were spoken.

The shootings and screaming finally stop.

He is the first to break the silence. "You shouldn't have." His voice breaks in the end.

"I had to." She presses her lips together in a tight line.

The light rain turned into a heavy down pour.

Enjolras takes off his red coat and hands it to Eponine.

She stands and takes his hand.

Together, they would to find some sort of shelter.

* * *

It lasts for a week before the grief sets in.

The screaming and yelling at each other.

He hates himself for yelling at her. Even more so for blaming everything on her.

"I was their leader!"

"You became weak!"

"I should have died with them!" He screamed, towering over her. "You should have let me die! I should have died with them! I-" He broke down into sobs and he slides to the floor. He pulls his knees to his chest and just loses it.

She sits beside him and tells him things will get better. She rubs his back and wipes the tears. She tells him she hates seeing him like this. Seeing him so broken.

And in a few moments, his hand was cupping her face

That was the night he first kissed her.

* * *

Six months since the frightful June night, the first snow in the streets of Paris was falling.

Bread in her basket and wine in her hand, she walks into the new flat that her and Enjolras live in.

He was reading when she walked in. Of course he was reading, that's all he ever did. In his red chair by the fire.

Once she sets the wine down, he turns around.

That giddy smile is etched on his face whenever he sees her.

And she couldn't help by smile back.

* * *

That night the wine is all drunk.

That night there were no nightmares.

That was the night they first made love.

* * *

And they stay in moments like this.

Pure bliss.

They heal each other.

* * *

"You think I actually give a damn about your love live?" Enjolras looked at Marius bewildered.

"Well yes!"

Enjolras was about to say something when a small voice broke the stunned silence.

"Monsieur Marius."

The voice was so small, so soft, and yet so strong.

Enjolras turned and saw a girl he had only seen once or twice before with Marius.

"I bid you farewell, Enjolras." Marius says and he and the young girl walk down the stairs together.

In that moment, in that one small glance at her, he noticed everything. The scar on her chin, the dimples that come out when she smiled, her high cheekbones and those sunken cheeks.

Enjolras found himself in an imagination of what could have been.


End file.
